


restricted content

by andnowforyaya



Series: camera boy [7]
Category: B.A.P, K-pop
Genre: Aromantic, Bondage, Genderplay, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Multiple Partners, Safewords, Vibrators, Webcam/Video Chat Sex, callmeoppa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 13:20:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1471306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andnowforyaya/pseuds/andnowforyaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are you sure about this?” Youngjae asks again, stepping around and blocking Daehyun’s view of himself on the screen. Instead he sees Youngjae drop down to a squat in front of him, his face close.</p><p>“You don’t like it,” Daehyun murmurs. “You don’t want to do this?”</p><p>“No,” Youngjae says. “That’s not it. I’m game as long as you’re sure.”</p>
            </blockquote>





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“Are you sure about this?” Youngjae asks him, and Daehyun kind of thinks they’ve passed that point. He’s sure. He’s been sure ever since Himchan suggested it last night, and he’s sure now, knelt onto the floor, his knees pressed into an old yoga mat they found in Youngjae’s room, his wrists behind his head.

“Are _you_ sure?” Daehyun returns. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. But thanks for your help.”

“I just don’t get it - I mean. I’m going to be right here. Himchan will see me. Doesn’t that kind of - mess up the play?”

He can feel the way Youngjae loops the rope around and around the length connecting his wrists together, the way the narrow space between them tightens. He rolls his shoulders when Youngjae is done.

Youngjae moves on with the two ends of the rope to his ankles.

“I don’t think he minds; it was his suggestion. And I think he wants you a part of it, kind of.” The rope brushes over the bottom of his foot and he twitches, ticklish, and then the vibrator lodged inside of him shifts. “ _Ah_ ,” Daehyun squeaks, elbows dipping.

Youngjae pauses from working the rope around his ankles to rub his warm hand between Daehyun’s shoulder blades, meant to soothe, but it just makes Daehyun think about Youngjae pushing him down until his chest is pressed to the floor, sliding out the vibrator and thrusting in with his dick instead. He whimpers, arms still over his head.

“Okay?”

“It’s not like we’ve never done this before,” Daehyun manages.

“Yeah, but we've never done this for an audience.”

It’s almost nine o’clock.

“You’re doing it,” Daehyun says. “So I’m okay.”

Youngjae presses a kiss to the top of Daehyun’s head, more for Daehyun’s benefit than for his own, but it still makes Daehyun’s eyelashes flutter. The rope snicks and catches behind him.

He can see Youngjae working on the screen of his computer. Youngjae is in plain sweats and a white t-shirt, his hair mussed from running back to their apartment in the rain, and his skin seems so pale compared to Daehyun’s darker complexion.

Daehyun is naked, the smooth expanse of his sunkissed skin golden on screen, knees spread and cock half-hard between his legs, wrists behind his head.

The rope trails down from Daehyun’s wrists to his feet, where Youngjae is finishing. He tightens it, and then he straightens, running his fingers lightly on the lengths connecting Daehyun’s wrists to his ankles, testing their elasticity, their give.

“Are you sure about this?” Youngjae asks again, stepping around and blocking Daehyun’s view of himself on the screen. Instead he sees Youngjae drop down to a squat in front of him, his face close.

“You don’t like it,” Daehyun murmurs. “You don’t want to do this?”

“No,” Youngjae says. “That’s not it. I’m game as long as you’re sure.”

He cups Daehyun’s cheek in his hand, and Daehyun leans into it instinctively. Youngjae presses his lips to Daehyun’s forehead. Then he stands up, presses a few keys on the keyboard of Daehyun’s laptop and sits in Daehyun’s desk chair, off-screen, a small remote in his hands.

“Remember: I’m right here, and I’m in control. Okay?”

Daehyun nods.

Like clockwork, Himchan’s face pops up on Daehyun’s screen, and there is a moment of silence before Himchan breathes, “Oh, baby. You really did it, huh.”

Daehyun flushes with his whole body. He’ll never truly be used to the way Himchan calls him pet names, and then there is the added factor of Youngjae watching, listening. Youngjae snickers, too quiet for the microphone to pick up, but Daehyun hears it.

“O-oppa,” Daehyun stammers, suddenly embarrassed. His eyes flicker over to Youngjae’s, and Youngjae’s are shining. “Oppa, I did what you asked.”

“You did,” Himchan says. “You did. Did you bring someone to play with you?”

Daehyun nods. His arms are tiring already. Maybe he should have eaten a more substantial meal than hard-boiled eggs for breakfast, hours ago.

Slowly, he sinks down onto the mat further, spreading his knees just a little more, and it gives him a bit more space with the rope to let his arms down, just a little.

“And he wants to play, too?”

“He has the remote,” Youngjae suddenly says. “So, yeah.”

On screen, Himchan raises an eyebrow, and Daehyun fights the urge to squirm. “He sounds nice.”

Daehyun cries out when the vibrator turns on, a surprise, his body trying to fold into itself, but the ropes catch and tug and he can’t quite manage it, his chest heaving. Just as suddenly, it turns off. He glares at Youngjae with wet eyes, and Youngjae smirks.

“I’m not always nice,” Youngjae says.

Himchan laughs. “I wish I were there. You sound fun. I bet you’re good to him. I bet he gets on his knees like this for you whenever you want. Turn it back on.”

This time Daehyun is ready for it, and only groans when the toy shivers to life, a pleasant buzz against his nerves. It makes it feel like his blood is shaking inside of him, and he closes his eyes, feeling his blood pump in his veins.

“So, tell me about your day, Daehyun,” Himchan says. “What did you do this morning?”

“Ah, I - I had classes. Advanced Composition Theory. Vocals. Ah - and then--”

“Did your professors say anything to you today?”

Daehyun groans. The buzzing turns torturous as his body starts to crave more. If his hands weren’t tied behind his head he would palm his dick or maybe twist the vibrator around inside of him, but he can’t. “My vocals coach - said - said I need to - work on my - _ah_!”

The vibrator jumps up in intensity, and Daehyun’s jaw hangs open after his shout, his fingernails digging into his palms.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he hisses, narrowing his eyes at Youngjae again.

Youngjae says, “You were taking too long to answer,” something different about the way he’s looking at Daehyun, and on screen, Himchan nods.

“You’re right. From now on you need to answer within ten seconds.”

“Or what?” Daehyun pants. His knees are burning, even padded as they are on the mat.

“Or your friend gets to - switch it up? Off? His choice.”

“I’ll surprise you,” Youngjae says, and Daehyun shivers, his body reacting to the vibrations that seem to be taking over him. He wishes he could curl up into a ball and just let them course through him, let Youngjae bring him off like that. His hands are behind his head, though, and his ankles tied to his wrists, and the position, the tightness, the fact he can’t reach _anything_ , makes the toy seem that much more powerful.

“Okay,” Daehyun whispers, gulping.

Youngjae switches the vibrator back down to a low buzz, and Daehyun feels his body relaxing as much as it can, tension releasing.

“So what did you have for lunch?” Himchan asks him.

An easy question, all things considered, but suddenly Daehyun cannot remember. Suddenly all Daehyun can think about is which button Youngjae will press next. “I - I had a - sandwich?”

His body is wracked with tremors when Youngjae ups the intensity, his breath coming in short and his heart racing.

“Don’t lie,” Youngjae says.

“I didn’t eat,” Daehyun practically screams. “I didn’t eat! I forgot - I had class and they go straight through the afternoon and I didn’t pack anything so I forgot. I’m sorry. I lied - I’m sorry.”

The vibrator shuts off and Daehyun slumps, though his blood still sings.

“We can’t have you lying,” Himchan purrs. “Or not eating.” He tsks. “You should take better care of that.”

“I know,” Daehyun mumbles. His skin feels hot, flushed. He wishes he could touch himself.

Youngjae plays with the remote like he’s a child just discovering he has power over electricity, and Daehyun is panting and hard and his vision is swimming a little after a few more questions. Sometimes, Youngjae turns it off all the way, and Daehyun is left feeling bereft, needy, desperate.

“Okay, what did you do after class?”

He wants Youngjae to turn the toy back on. He wants to come. His cock is curved up against his belly and leaking, and his shoulders are sore and his knees are red, and he wants to come. “I don’t know,” he says. “Came home. Found the rope.”

The toy starts up and something settles within him. He sink down and it shifts and brushes against a sensitive spot, and his mouth falls open as he gasps.

“He answered,” Himchan says, frowning faintly.

“I know,” Youngjae says. “But he wanted it.” He turns it up again, and then he says, “I can always tell.”

Daehyun comes with his hands behind his head, with his body tighter than a coil, shooting against his own belly and chest, forgetting to breath. After, he is light-headed and seeing spots.

His blood feels thin, and also like it can’t quite reach his fingers and toes. His chest contracts.

“Turn it up again,” Himchan breathes, and Daehyun should have known. He loves it best when Daehyun is flushed and drained, unable to do much more than groan through an orgasm, but Youngjae turns it up and Daehyun cries.

It’s too much. The vibrations are too much and his blood is too thin and hot and he can barely feel his arms anymore, and black dances in front of his eyes. “Red,” he grits against the tremors. It feels like his skull itself is vibrating. “Red light, red light, _red light_ ,” he gasps.

Abruptly the vibrator shuts off and Youngjae is kneeling in front of him, his hands reaching around him to undo the ties at his ankles. They loosen quickly, never meant to restrain too tightly, and then he gently unravels the knots around his wrists, holding onto Daehyun’s hands so they don’t simply drop to the ground, heavy. He brings them forward slowly, instead, lowering them to fold against Daehyun’s chest, and Daehyun winces at the burn, the needles pricking into him when blood rushes back into his limbs.

“Are you okay?” Himchan is asking, unable to see. “Is he okay?”

“Sorry,” Daehyun mumbles, slumping forward to lay his head on Youngjae’s shoulder. “I felt like I was going to pass out.”

“He’s okay,” Youngjae says, a little louder, so that Himchan can hear. “But I’m - I’m going to turn the camera off, okay?”

“I’m on chat,” Himchan says. “If you need anything. Hey - I’m sorry about that. I should have gauged better. It was - It’s usually - It’s usually better in person.”

“It’s okay,” Daehyun exhales, trying to gain control over his own breathing again. It had been sudden - the overwhelming knowledge that if he’d been tied up for just a few more seconds, he would have fainted. “I think - I think maybe I’m just hungry.”

“You didn’t eat properly all day,” Youngjae says. “Idiot,” he adds, with affection. “But you’re okay?”

Daehyun nods, and Youngjae rubs his hands over his upper arms, increasing circulation.

“I’m going to go turn off the camera.”

Daehyun nods again. “Sorry, oppa,” he says, and Youngjae’s cheeks turn red.

“Don’t _you_ apologize,” Himchan returns. “It’s not your fault. It was hot while it lasted, okay? You did good.”

Youngjae leans back and turns off the camera. Himchan’s face disappears from the screen, and then Youngjae comes back, hands on Daehyun’s upper arms. “How are your knees?”

“Arthritic,” Daehyun whines.

Youngjae laughs. He stands, bringing Daehyun with him, and then he guides him to the bed. Daehyun moves gingerly, like he’s walking on glass, every movement seeming too abrupt and dangerous. He feels like he could still slip into blackness at any moment, and his head is pounding. He lays down on his stomach, groaning.

“I’m going to take the toy out,” Youngjae says. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Daehyun says into his pillow.

Youngjae’s weight makes the springs of his mattress creak, and then he feels Youngjae’s fingers brushing against the end of the vibrator. His breath hitches.

Slowly, Youngjae works it out.

Then he feels lips press against the dip of his lower back, and he presses himself down, into the mattress, toes curling.

“I worry about you,” Youngjae whispers against his back.

“Don’t,” Daehyun thinks he says, drifting. Youngjae could kiss him again, on his shoulders; he could run his fingers through the thick hairs at the base of Daehyun’s scalp. Or, he could be dreaming.

In the morning there’s a banana and a bottle of water and a half-heartedly toasted piece of bread on a plate on his nightstand. Daehyun drinks the whole bottle in one go, and picks at the bread, smiling to himself. There’s also a text from Youngjae waiting for him on his phone.

jae says: eat. it’s not like you can’t afford it anymore. lunch is in the fridge too.

He nibbles on the banana and checks his email.

There are messages from Himchan, too.

callmeoppa says: i hope you’re okay  
callmeoppa says: i’m really sorry about what happened  
callmeoppa says: you know how i said it would be better in person?  
callmeoppa says: well. i am traveling again and i thought we could meet up?  
callmeoppa says: i’m coming to the us for a week or so and stopping in different cities  
callmeoppa says: if it’s too weird i’m okay with not meeting up too i just thought that, you know, you seem cool and i would like to meet you if you’re up for it  
callmeoppa says: but totally understand if you are not  
callmeoppa says: anyway let me know

Daehyun finishes the banana, skimming over the rest of the messages. He swallows and it is sticky going down his throat.

Himchan is coming, and he will be here in just a week.

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**Author's Note:**

> [writing](andnowforyaya.tumblr.com)   
>  [twitter](https://twitter.com/andnowforyaya)
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> side note: i literally wrote the title and went, "ah ha ha ha," to myself in my apartment i am a huge dork.


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